The Wheel |
轮 |
| Through winter-time we call on spring, | 在冬天里我们呼唤春天， |
| And through the spring on summer call, | 在春天里我们呼唤夏天， |
| And when abounding hedges ring | 在繁茂的树篱 |
| Declare that winter's best of all; | 随风响起的时候 |
| And after that there's nothing good | 我们又来呼唤冬天； |
| Because the spring-time has not come— | 因为春天未至—— |
| Nor know that what disturbs our blood | 却不知那搅扰我们血液的 |
| Is but its longing for the tomb. | 是血液对坟墓的渴望。 |
